


nothing but my aching soul

by missabigailhobbs



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Doc is a bad person, Dubious Consent, Kept Boy Baby, M/M, Mafia AU, mentions of killing, mentions of past underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missabigailhobbs/pseuds/missabigailhobbs
Summary: Mafia!Doc AU! Baby owes him a blood debt for accidentally running over one of Doc's employees, and Doc takes full advantage.





	nothing but my aching soul

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop using Lana del Rey lyrics for my fic titles? No, probably not. Hope you guys enjoy!

Doc was a man with exquisite tastes. Everything had to be perfect, from his clothes, to his hair, to his home, his car, and of course, his lover. 

Baby was perfect. There were those few little scars on his cute face, but Doc thought they added character. It helped that he could drive like a demon was on his tail when they needed to, but usually he never asked Baby to even break the speed limit. No use drawing undue attention, after all. And he wanted people to see who was driving his car. One of his cars anyway, Doc had a dozen, all in sleek, glistening black. And Baby was as much an accessory as any of them, but there was only one of him. 

Years and years ago, when Baby was just a no-good punk kid boosting cars for fun, he’d fucked up. He’d run over one of Doc’s favorite employees, and the survivors of the crash had dragged Baby in front of Doc, expecting to see brains splattered across the expensive carpet. 

But Doc had made a different call. Seeing that young face, he saw someone he could mold like clay in his hands, someone he could make to be exactly what he wanted. 

He signed Baby to a blood debt. A life of service, however Doc saw fit, in exchange for the life he’d taken. When Baby was young, he’d had him doing housework, cleaning, cooking, reading - he had no use for a stupid pet. His Baby never talked much, but that was just fine by Doc; he didn’t need a chatterbox either, after a long day of work. 

As Baby grew older, his duties changed somewhat. It started when Baby was somewhere around 13 or 14, handjobs that gradually grew more skillful as Baby learned exactly what Doc liked and what made him growl “Good job, Baby”. 

When Baby was 16, Doc had brought him to bed. He wasn’t exactly gentle - he never had time to be, and he didn’t want word getting around that was going soft - but neither did he brutalize his property. He didn’t want him damaged. He made it clear to Baby that this was his new role, in addition to the bit of light cleaning he’d always done. He was to make himself available for Doc and his friends whenever they might need a little stress relief. And organized crime was a very stressful job. 

It was even worse at parties. At Doc’s extravagant house parties, Baby was always the main entertainment. Usually, Baby was pampered, treated to the nicest clothes and the nicest food, given the run of Doc’s expansive home and plenty of spending money to keep himself amused. But at Doc’s parties, he was dressed up, in tight little shorts that wouldn’t last past the appetizer round and a thin little t-shirt that seemed as though it was made to be torn off. Baby tried to get drunk during these nights, so he would forget as much of them as possible. Doc didn’t care, as long as his performance didn’t slip. If it did, there would be punishments. Nothing ever left marks, but Baby wouldn’t forget it all the same. 

When they attended events at fancy venues or other people’s homes, Baby always drove. He was as much a spectacle piece as the expensive cars Doc owned, and Doc never rode shotgun. Dressed to the nines in a suit that fit like a second skin, perfectly tailored to his body, Baby was Doc’s chauffeur, arm candy, and always the apple of everyone’s eye. 

Doc loved that Baby always drew everyone’s eye. Men, women, it didn’t matter - Baby’s height and shy good looks always attracted everyone’s attention. Doc loved it; his property, his Baby, the belle of the ball as usual. 

Not that everything was always perfect. Baby was only 23 now, but those angelic good looks wouldn’t last forever. Neither would Doc, of course, but… he wondered. When would Baby outlive his usefulness? Doc hadn’t trained him in any other specific fields, but maybe he would have Baby as a full time wheelman once he wasn’t pretty enough to be a bedwarmer anymore. Doc was fairly sure he’d feel sad if or when Baby died during a heist, but it was hard to say. If Baby lost his looks before Doc died, he’d make him a full time driver, and after that it was out of his hands. Baby did owe him a blood debt after all. 

Baby, for his part, tried not to resent his life. He knew he’d killed a man, but he’d only been ten years old, and it had been an accident. In a split second, his life had changed, and not for the better. Sure, there were the nice parts - his room was the size of his childhood apartment, for example, and the jeans he wore cost more than most people’s entire wardrobe. But then there were the not so nice parts, and those had started when he was too young to know any better. Too young to know that jacking off your benefactor’s dick was wrong, and by the time he was old enough to know that, it was too late to do anything about it. 

Sometimes, after the infamous parties when he’d been used and abused by countless men and women and no amount of brushing his teeth could get the bitter taste out of his mouth, he fantasized about killing Doc. That would end it all, wouldn’t it? Of course, he’d be killed right away, but maybe it would be worth it. The only time he’d get his hands dirty, and it would almost definitely be the last. 

Baby thought about the rest of his life too. Doc always encouraged him not to think about it, to just enjoy where he was now, but he couldn’t help thinking about the future. Every time he had a birthday, every day that passed, he felt the end of this life coming. He tried to practice driving whenever he had a chance, so he could prove his usefulness as a driver to Doc when the time came. It was either that or a bullet between the eyes. Doc never kept anyone or anything around that wasn’t useful. 

This life was filled with blood and money and sex and drugs, and Baby had never wanted any part of it. But with every day that passed, he was starting to think that the only way out was the same way he got in. Maybe he could arrange an accident. Maybe that was the only way out. A hit and run and then just keep running. Maybe he could turn state’s evidence and go into protective custody, but there was no promise that one of Doc’s associates wouldn’t shoot him dead in the street just for kicks. So for now he had no choice but to do as Doc said, to live for the moment. To listen to the music perpetually playing in his ears and pray there was never a moment when the beats of music and of his heart stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so if you enjoyed that (or any of my other works) I'm currently taking custom fic commissions, for this fandom and a variety of others! Send me a message and we'll work it out, y'all know there's basically nothing I won't write. My tumblr is missabigailhobbs, come hang out with me :) Kudos and comments give me fuel, you guys have been fantastic and I love you so much! Stay lovely <3


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